RWBY: A convoluted chronicle
by R.W.B.Y.Pioneer17
Summary: "He's an idiot." Still scribbling away on her paperwork, the white-haired heiress cut in and brought them all to silence. "A hard-headed, hot-blooded, and narrow-minded idiot." A pause. "But an oathbreaker? Forswearer? A man without honor?" She scoffed. "The man's thousands of Jaunes put into one. He'll kick the bucket before he'll ever go back on his word, I promise you that."
1. Prologue

**A/N: I have no idea what has gotten into me right now but I've suddenly been possessed with the urge to write this. And normally I'm the type that would shy away from giving in to my impulses so quickly, BUT, to quote my awesome Professor;**

**"If you've got an idea for a story, write it. May it be crap or may it be awesome. It doesn't matter, just write it so you can either laugh your ass off if it actually is crap or you can gawk at how stupidly lucky you were if it turns out to be an awesome one."**

**Ahh~...never change Prof.**

**But anywho, this is where I am now. Writing down the sudden development of this story idea and showing it off to the world. Yeah, I know, I'm weird like that. And I have no idea if I'll actually continue this or I'll lose steam in just a few days, but meh, let's have father time be the judge of that.**

**Now. On to the story~!**

**Disclaimer:**

**I owe nothing of RWBY and I never will, cuz let's be honest here that's just never gonna happen anytime ever, for it belongs to Rooster Teeth. Only the OC(s) and the Canonical Changes from the show are the only things that are connected to me. Nothing more and nothing less.**

**Also**

**Any and all references in this story of mine that may or may not be connected to actual people, things, places, events and such in real life are absolutely pure coincidence. This is a work of fiction and will remain so from now until the end of time.**

* * *

The Fall of Beacon and the Kingdom of Vale as a whole. Truly, a dark chapter in the history of Remnant. Just as the world and its people thought it could unite as one and enjoy a time of peace, the forces of evil reared their ugly heads and struck tragedy into the hearts of billions. Death and destruction run havoc all throughout the continent of Sanus brought forth by the near-insurmountable hordes of Grimm and the combined might of the Valian Military and Huntsmen forces pushing back the waves of darkness that almost seemed to be never-ending. And with Atlas' Machines turning against them and their mighty warships rendered useless from the swarm of avian Grimm called forth by the titanic Grimm Dragon, an undeniable feeling of hopelessness was shared amongst nearly everyone. But heart-wrenching as it is to bear witness all this chaos, it pales in comparison to the depression inducing vicissitude happening in Beacon Academy.

A once magnificent Academy that lived up to its name and stood as the Beacon of light against the darkness and also as the literal Beacon for Remnant telecommunications. A school that taught and trained many a powerful and great Huntsmen and Huntresses throughout the decades since it's founding. The very same place where our heroes forged and strengthened their bonds and friendships. And it was now in ruins. Destroyed by the Grimm and the carnage left by the scant few who fought back. And worse of all, the casualties that this dreadful night had brought.

The death of the academy's esteemed Headmaster, Ozpin, Penny Pollindina's fateful execution in the Amity Coliseum, the defeat of Yang Xiao Long which costs the severing of her arm, Blake's near-death traumatic experience, Jaune's regretful shame, Ruby's awakening and the untimely demise of Pyrrha Nikos in the Headmaster's tower. These deaths rocked our heroes to their very cores and forever changed their lives. And this would lead them down a spiral of constant battle against their depressions.

_**SIKE****~!**_

* * *

Hehe~. Luckily though, Destiny had a change of plans.

* * *

"H-how?" The red-dressed woman croaked out, voice dry and coarse from fighting for hours on end. "How can this be? How!?" Despite being brought to her knees from sheer exhaustion, she snapped her head up to face the three adversaries standing shoulder to shoulder before her and growled at them with what little her insanely parched throat could manage. "How!?"

"How?" The gravelly voice of the aged scythe-wielding Huntsman veteran mockingly parroted back with a wide grin on his face. "Well, Ms. Strip Tease, it's quite simple..." He then raised his one hand up at her and flicked her the bird. "Fuck you, that's how."

"Mr. Branwen sir, that's..ha..highly inappropriate." A red-haired woman wearing bronze armor breathlessly chastised the older man while never taking her green eyes off the downed woman just a few feet away from them. "There's no need for such vulgarly. Let's just finish this. And quickly."

"Pyrrha's right, Uncle Qrow." Just as he was about to make a retort, Qrow Branwen, Master of the seven Scythe Forms and Ozpin Antiquorum's number one spy-assassin, stopped short when his niece, Ruby Rose, who was also looking like she needed a break yesterday, spoke up quickly after. "Cinder's on her last leg now, it's better off if we end it now. Plus..." She leaned in closer to whisper to Qrow. "We're getting tired, and I don't feel at all comfortable fighting her when we're tired. That's just a death wish waiting to happen."

"Hm." Qrow acknowledged with a slow nod. "All right girls, we'll do it your way. But remember kid, you've gotta take the last shot." He whispered back to Pyrrha, to which he got a nod of understanding from her, before looking towards the sorry shape that was Cinder Fall with a condescending sneer. "Right then, burlesque queen, I don't really think someone as shitty as you would know jack-shit about Religion but either way, I hope you're ready to meet those makers of ours. Cuz there's definitely a hell, and you're definitely going straight down there."

"Rubes, knuckle up." He ordered as he readied his fully unfolded Scythe. "You too, nice-girl. Get ready. Cuz it's about to get really red, really fast." He said to Pyrrha.

"Sir." Both redheads replied astutely as they moved into lunging positions.

_Damn it-Damn it-DAMN it-DAMN IT-DAMN IT!_ Cinder Fall cursed in her mind. She could no longer use her vocal cords due to the extensive damage done to her throat and being dried as all hell. _I was SO close! SO CLOSE! It was right there, that power I had sought for so long, that victory I've bled my whole life for, it was right there and I LOST!_ She couldn't help it. With her voice all but gone and her body, despite it still possessing the Maiden Aura, was so wounded, bruised, and broken that all she could do is keep her upper body upright. And the pain. Even if she could fire off a few more Maiden enhanced attacks, the pain lancing all throughout her body was too much already. She knew, she just knew, that if she even tried to move a single millimeter in any direction, she would collapse on the ground and that'd be the end of it.

But of course, Cinder fall being...well, Cinder Fall, decided that if she were to falter, she would do so with her head held up high. Proud and unyielding 'till the very end.

"Good night, fall." Menacingly, Qrow lowered his upper body the same way a wolf would when it's about to pounce on its prey. "Sweet dreams in hell."

With that, all three of them, Qrow, Ruby, and Pyrrha lunged forward with speeds befitting that of Huntsmen. As for Cinder, well, she knew she was fucked. And as time slowed to a near stop, as it always does when one is literally a few seconds away from greeting the embrace of death, Cinder fall thought to herself.

_W__hy? _As Ruby and Qrow ever so slowly ran closer towards her with their scythes at the ready and Pyrrha following close behind for the sure kill, Cinder couldn't help but ponder exasperatedly. _Everything was in place. Perfect. Down to the last minuscule detail. Everything should've gone flawlessly, everything should've been completely fool-proof. Then, why? Why? WHY? WHY?!_

Of course, Cinder herself didn't, or in this case, couldn't know the exact details as to why her genocidal plan didn't work out. For you see, unbeknownst to her, when Mercury was supposed to keep Ruby distracted long enough for Emerald to cast the illusion on Pyrrha during her battle with Penny, team FNKY who had been on their way to the snack booths saw Ruby being completely bodied by the silver-haired kick master. Rushing to her aid, team FNKY distracted Mercury just enough for Ruby to rush back out towards the bleachers. Coincidentally, due to Ruby's frantic rush and adrenaline spiking like crazy, she lost momentary control over her Semblance and "bumped" right into Emerald with the same speeds as that of a runaway Ferrari.

Due to this, Emerald was unable to cast any sort of illusion on the red-haired Amazona warrior thus allowing her to perceive the actual amount of blades Penny was using and only used a percentage of her Polarity power to pin Penny's swords down on the floor. With the artificial girl's death avoided, Cinder had no other choice but to move on to the next step regardless of her subordinate's failures. She carried on with her continental-wide broadcast and reworded her fright speech to gouge what little negativity she could from the populace. Of course, without Penny's death as the catalyst that would've kick-started the apocalypse, her initial plan to attract swarms and hordes of Grimm failed. Well, partially. The unease from the people, which was further enhanced due to Cinder's little fright speech, was enough to attract a few hundred Grimm towards The Wall.

As for Torchwick, the dashingly smooth criminal mastermind was, as planned, freed from his cell by Neopolitan and on schedule, they took over the Atlas Control ship and planted the virus that would've turned all the Atlas drones against the people. 'Unfortunately' Winter Schnee, who had been directed by General Ironwood to go into momentary hiding to fool any and all potential enemies, heard the distress call from the fallen captain of the Control Ship and made haste towards it on her private bull-head. Once there, she discovered Torchwick and Neopolitan just as they were to plant the virus. The three of them had an intense battle but due to Winter being Ironwood's right hand and a prodigy in battle, she got the upper hand on them and ended up wounding both of them. Seeing as they were losing and prioritized living on for another day, the two of them escaped with the aid of Neo's Semblance.

With the planting of the Virus averted, not a single one of Atlas' drones turned against them and, due to there being not enough avian Grimm to cause that much damage, so too were the Atlas battleships unharmed and counted for. Thus, with the combined forces of the Atlas and Vale militaries, the few thousand Grimm that were attacking The Wall were swiftly dealt with. And Cinder, sensing something was amiss and didn't want to take any chances, quickly made her way to Beacon Academy to claim the other half of the Maiden power. She made it down to the vault, undetected for the most part, and made quick work of Amber. Successful in acquiring the full power of the Fall Maiden, Cinder was completely unaware of the detection alarm setting off in Ozpin's office and alerting the age-old Revenant.

Fully knowing he would be hard-pressed to face her alone, he had Glynda and Qrow accompany him down to the vault to face her. He also contacted Pyrrha as well, so that when the time came for them to finish Cinder, she would deliver the final blow and become the rightful Fall Maiden. And when the three of them arrived down at the vault, they proceeded into an intense 1v3 battle that rocked the foundations of the Academy. Meanwhile, Pyrrha received the message Ozpin had sent her. And just as she was about to leave, Ruby, concerned for the Mistralian champion's sudden need to leave, asked her what the matter was. Pyrrha hesitated at first, but, after thinking back to the young Rose's heroic streak, she ultimately decided to bring her along to Beacon so as long as it was just her that would come and no one else.

Ruby herself didn't fully understand but, sensing that her fellow redhead was serious, agreed and the two of them quickly made their way to Beacon, much to the surprise and worry of everyone else. Along the way, the two of them talked about the seriousness of the situation and Pyrrha did her best to fill Ruby in on what little Ozpin had told her. The Maiden's, the secret war in the shadows, the "truth" of Remnant, and the like. The young Rose was stupified with the information dumped unto her but she recovered quickly and vowed to find out more later on. When the two of them finally made it down to the secret Vault, it was just in time for them to witness Ozpin, Qrow, and Glynda fighting their all against a slowly tiring Cinder.

Qrow was, to say the least, shocked to see his niece but shook it off quickly and continued to press the attack on Cinder. Ozpin had Glynda fall back, due to her having weaker stamina compared to him and Qrow, and ordered her to fill in Nikkos on the situation. So, as Qrow and Ozpin continued to stall Cinder as much as they could, Glynda advised the two redheads, though she was honestly surprised to see the younger of the two, and told them all that they needed to know about Cinder. That she was a warrior for the forces of evil, her purpose here in Beacon, her newly found powers, and her overall attack style and patterns.

Once the two aspiring Huntresses in training contemplated and accepted the overall direness of everything, they had Glynda take a breather before jumping into the fray. Not long after that, Cinder landed multiple near-fatal blows that would've ended the Headmaster's life right then and there had it not been mitigated by Qrow and Ruby stepping in. Pyrrha quickly scooped up the wounded Ozpin and set him down next to Glynda, who looked like she was more than ready to telepathically bury Cinder in everything if she even tried to chase after the downed silver-haired man. Regardless, the veteran, the champion, and the adorable evil butt-kicking munchkin fought on.

And Cinder? Well, she was by no means an amateur in battle. She had been trained and molded by Salem herself since she was no little than ten years of age. And for 15 years, 15 long excruciating years, she fought, killed, learned, improved, and fought and killed again and again and again. So, of course, she held her ground against the likes of Beacon's best and brightest and she held it longer than any other Human being ever. After all, one does not simply down the Headmaster of Beacon Academy, tire the fearsome Witch of Beacon, stalemate the man who mastered all seven battle forms of the most dangerous weapon ever conceived, and fend off both the four-time undefeated invincible girl and plus ultra hyperactive scythe-wielding rose all in the same day and at the same place. With all that training and experience seared into her very being, in addition to the full might of the Maiden Aura, she was by her own right damn near unstoppable.

However, that didn't mean she was completely unstoppable.

No matter the power levels, no matter the amount of training and experience, and no matter how many tricks they've got up in their sleeves, one will always come to tire. It may be hours or may it even be days, it still doesn't change the fact that the body will eventually run out of steam.

And that's how Cinder Fall came into the situation that she's in now. She fought all five foes, pushed back all five foes, and she held her ground for hours and hours and hours on end. But she reached her body's limit all the same. With fatigue and pain coursing all throughout her body, she fell to her knees. Sweat dampening her beautiful red dress and making the fabric stick to her figure all the more. And so, with her heart beating rapidly and lungs wheezing out of all control, she could do nothing but remain effectively stunned and immobile as all three warriors charged straight at her.

But she wouldn't be Cinder Fall if she were to accept death so easily, now would she?

_No...No! I will not let it end like this._

Gritting her teeth with a snarl, she snapped both her hands up and put them together to form a hand sign. Qrow, Ruby, and Pyrrha saw this and quickly halted in their advance and just as quickly leaped back a few paces. They, of course, didn't know what the sudden move from Cinder meant. But little did they know, Cinder was actually using an ancient magic hand sign that she had read from one of the thousands of Salem's books in her Castle Libraries. _I will not lose this power. This is mine and mine alone, and no else's. And I will make sure of that._ Since she could no longer rely on vocally citing the incantation, she opted to do so mentally.

_The grace of the gods I call to me, break these mortal binds and set me free, unchained and unbound finally-_

"NO! QROW STOP HER QUICKLY!" Recognizing the ancient hand sign that Cinder was using, and knowing full well what that particular sign was for, Ozpin screamed regardless of the blinding pain his wounds gave. "STOP HER NOW!"

_-sever my soul and body eternally..._

"Ruby, Nikkos, move!" Qrow barked before leaping forward to attack, the two redheads following behind after a momentary hesitation.

**_LATUME!_**

And right as Qrow's scythe was mere millimeters from making contact with Cinder's flesh, her body glowed in a blinding orange shine. And a millisecond after, the light shot out of her body and soared upwards and disappearing towards the surface. Leaving only confusion, a cursing Ozpin, and a now soulless corpse behind.

* * *

In other areas of Vale, cops and various squads of military personnel were patrolling the streets and districts and were continuously advising the people to remain calm and stay indoors. The people were still quite spooked and worried, as they should be whenever the police force and the military are called to action, but they followed suit and remained in their apartments and houses. Although, there were those that didn't listen. Most of them were bratty teenagers looking for some fun and thrills while some were just very curious citizens. But there was one man that stood out most out of all them. And this man was currently standing atop the roof floor of a very tall hotel building and was overlooking everything that was going on down below.

"Geez-Louise, what a racket." The lightly tanned skinned man said with a heavy sigh as he slicked back his brown hair with his hand. A hand that was apparently gloved with a thick heavy-duty welding glove. As a matter of fact, both of his hands were gloved with the same thing. "Man, I just hope whoever they sent for my pizza order didn't get caught up with the popo, or worse, the military." Wincing at the thought of landing someone in trouble due to his actions, the man decided that maybe calling off the order, for now, would be an ideal decision.

"Hm? What the..." But just as he was about to make his way down, something caught his attention. To the north, he saw a bright orange light shooting up towards the sky. "Is..is that a comet? No, it can't be. It's way too small and it's moving too fast. A shooting star, maybe? Hm. Can't be it either, it's fast but not fast enough to be one. So then...what is it?"

As the man continued to ponder on the nature of the light, he failed to notice how the light shifted course into a downward arc and began its descent towards him.

"Meh, guess I'll leave it to the astronomers then." Turning his back, the man whistled a tune as he walked towards the edge of the roof with the full intent of leaping back down. To his misfortune, he was oblivious to the light accelerating down towards him. And the closer and closer it got, the faster it became. Until...

"Hm?" Noticing an orange hue that was getting brighter and brighter from behind him, he turned around. "What's with the-" Just in time for the light to crash into him and engulfing him in a bright orange glow.

The force of the light impacting his body was enough to lift the man off his feet and send him falling off the edge of the roof. As he fell, he bumped and even crashed through multiple metal awnings, with each impact drawing out a curse or two from the man, all the while glowing a bright orange. Eventually, he crashed down onto the dark alleyway below just as the light began to settle in tandem with his blue Aura shimmering from the damage. It was, after all, a fall from the very top of a fifty story building and he had crashed into and through every metal awning the hotel had and what's more, he didn't particularly land in the smoothest way possible. By that, I mean that due to his flailing and cursing he landed face-first into the cold damp concrete.

"Ah...gods..damn-"

Succumbing to unconsciousness the man couldn't see or sense the changes to his body. Like how his once brown hair turned into a dark shade of black and his irises, which were once a light shade of green, were replaced with the color of amber. And most of all, he missed the voice in his head that would've scared him shitless.

_"Ah, gods damn it."_ Cinder Fall cursed within the man's psyche.

* * *

**C/N:**** And boom! That's the prologue done. ****Now, as for the nature of this story's update schedule, I have no idea. This is essentially a passion project that I came up with just for fun so I have no idea when I'll be posting another chapter, if at all. So just stay tuned ladies and gents. I hope you all had a good time reading this work of mine and good luck wherever you're going next. ****This has been RWBYPioneer17, 'till next time folks~! **


	2. What is dead may never die

**A/N: Ooohhh yeeeeaaahhh~, it looks like I'm back at it again with this. **

**Now before we start, a reply to the comments;**

**Combine 117: Ah yes, thanks for the critique and feedback, my guy. It's greatly appreciated. Oh, before anything else, super congratulations on the success of RWBY's MOD. More than 200 follows and more than 100 favorites? Um, hell to the yes, dude. Though those numbers are still far-far-far-far from my reach, I'm so glad that you're making your way up there. Keep up the good work man and I wish you blessings in your journey to stardom~!**

**Zerg97: My dude, you have no idea how hard I laughed when I first read your comment. I already have a general form for my MC and the sudden thought of him wearing Cinder's clothing had me weak in the knees... like BRUH, ha-ha. But that aside, thank you for taking interest in my work and I hope I'll be able to entertain you for as long as I am able.**

**A disclaimer:**** I owe nothing of RWBY and I never will, cuz let's be honest here that's just never gonna happen anytime ever, for it belongs to Rooster Teeth. Only the OC's and the canonical changes from the show are the only things that are connected to me. Nothing more, nothing less.**

**Also**

**Any and all references in this story of mine that may or may not be connected to actual people, places, things, events, and such in real life are absolutely pure coincidence. This is a work of fiction and will remain so until the end of time.**

**Now, onward to the story~!**

* * *

_Unbelievable. _Understatement of the year right there folks. Truthfully though, this particular situation that Cinder Fall had wounded herself in was, by all intents and purposes, "unbelievable". So much so that despite no longer inhabiting a physical form, she felt a migraine harassing her incorporeal temples. _Out of all the shots I had, out of all the people in this god's damned rock, why in all Hell did I end up with this one? _

She was, of course, referring to the man whose body she was now inhabiting. The very same man who, until now, remained unconscious face down on the concrete ground. And much time had already passed since his fall and descent into the realm of sleep. The sun was already high in the sky and had long since lit up the alleyway he had fallen into. And he had yet to wake. He wasn't dead, Cinder could sense that much, but still. For her, being unconscious this long just from a fall from that height was something to be ashamed of.

_A weakling. Just my luck. _Cinder said to herself exasperatedly from somewhere within the man's soul. _The only thing worthwhile this worthless piece of meat has on him is his Semblance and, even with that, it's mediocre at best._

The ancient spell Cinder had used was a soul severing spell from a long-forgotten era of Remnant. To be precise, it's a spell that ejects the user's soul from their body and fires it off towards the nearest living being with the same Aura Signatures as that of the user. And once the user's soul has fully resided alongside the host's, the user and the host are able to communicate via telepathically with one another and even come to share each other's thoughts and even memories.

It's called; the Latume Prayer.

In Cinder's case, due to her not wanting to both "die" and lose the Maiden Power, which had become effectively a part of her own soul, she resorted to using Latume to prolong her death while still keeping the Maiden power. From there, she planned on manipulating whoever or whatever her host would be into enacting the second phase of the spell and gain full control of the host.

But luckily, karma does indeed exist in the infinite vastness of the multiverse.

As she planned, her soul ejected from her body and it locked onto the nearest being with the same, or near-same, Aura signatures as hers. But that being turned out to be the same man that had been on the roof of the hotel, and with no control whatsoever her soul crashed into him and began its merging. Once her soul had fully settled within the man, she spent the entire night scouring through whatever memories she could access within the man's psyche. And to say the least, she was not at all content with what she had seen so far.

_Stannys__. Gods, even his name sounds pathetic. __25 years of age and a loner. __The third child of some Lord, the black sheep more like, and cast out. Exiled. _

Cinder had access to that much, however, due to their connection still being fresh and unstrengthened she still could not find out as to 'why' he was outcast from his family. On the bright side, for her, she had free reign to most everything else.

_Hmph, it was likely because of this power of his. Or something close to that regard._

Blue fire, arguably the hottest and strongest variant of fire. Even she would admit to that. It's hot enough to burn through Aura within mere seconds and cremate anyone and anything a few seconds more. But that in of itself is the problem. Fire as strong as that is a lethal danger to all. Even, to the users themselves. For Cinder it's different. With her Semblance Pyrokinesis enhanced by the Maiden Power, she developed a certain immunity to fire. Thus allowing her to continue on using fire as much and as long as she wants to without fearing the consequences of being burned.

But Stannys, however, can't have that same immunity as she does. Because, as Cinder had come to realize after browsing through the man's memories, his fire was and most likely will always be too hot for his body and Aura to withstand. His permanently scarred hands are a testament to that.

_If only this pathetic lard would get up already. I need his body if I'm ever going to make any progress. _

It's not like the now spirit bound woman didn't try to wake the man. She tried calling out his name for hours and even at one point resorted to outright screaming it. She continued this for a few hours more but when the man showed no signs of responding she resorted to cursing up a storm. And even then, the man did not wake.

So Cinder woefully resigned in waiting instead for the man to wake on his own and browsed through the accessible memories while she waited. But now, she was starting to get really irritated again. From their shared sense, she could feel the heat of the sun bearing down on the man's body. This led her to the conclusion that it was now somewhere close to noon. And she did not like the thought of having to wait for hours on end with nothing productive to show for it. Not one bit.

_All right, that's it. I'm not lugging around this damned alleyway anymore. If this sentient piece of garbage won't get up, then I'll make him. Now..._

She had read some texts concerning the nature of the bond phase of the spell. But aside from the part where the user can take over the host, if the said host were to use the right magic hand sign and right incantation, there was also another part of the spell that greatly intrigued Cinder. The text was; "The spell user may be able to jolt the host with levels of pain if they are to concentrate enough." And with her frustration levels at an all-time high, she was more than ready to send pain up this-as Cinder so eloquently put it-pathetic oxygen wasting slob.

**_...WAKE!_**

"Argh!" With a short pained shriek involuntarily breaking past the man's mouth, he turned over on his back and cradled his temples with both his gloved hands. "Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow...hot damn, my head...argh."

_Finally!_ Cinder sarcastically appraised with a growl. _About damn time you woke up, imbecile._

Stannys froze for a few seconds. And not long after, with his eyes widely opened, he slowly removed his hands from his head and sat up. All the while cautiously scanning his surroundings.

"Hello?" He warily called out as he carefully put his feet under him. "Is someone there?"

Regardless of no longer bearing an organ to do so, Cinder cleared her throat in preparation_. _She, after all, is nothing if not a perfectionist in numerous regards.

_Humble greetings, Stannys of the House Barythion. _With a grace long since mastered, Cinder soothingly greeted the man. And not an ounce of the disconnect she had towards the man earlier was present in her voice._ I know that you are confused right now, and I know that you no doubt have many questions lined up for me. Worry not, for I will answer them all. And all will become clear in time._

Ah, the ancient art of bull-shitting or as others tend to call it, fanciful deception by articulated wordplay, is something of a second nature for Cinder Fall. One does not simply become a spy for the forces of evil if one cannot master deception and manipulation.

"Huh..." Stannys drawled out the word with a quirked brow as he clenched his gloved hands into fists. "...oookaaay...sure, whoever you are." He then proceeded to very slowly and cautiously move into a continuous 360-degree turn, all the while darting his eyes wherever.

_Oh, deary me, there is no need to be so cautious. I am a friend. _She gently cooed, her silky voice seemingly resonating all throughout Stannys' psyche._ Now I know you may not have much reason to trust me, but I assure you I can be trus-_

"Your voice." Stannys cut Cinder off, which subconsciously ticked off the woman something fierce, all the while continuing to turn. "If you're really gonna answer whatever questions I've got then answer this; Why do you sound exactly like that woman who hijacked Vale's communication transmits and recited a pseudo terrorist essay?"

_Fuck._ Cinder involuntarily cursed out. _So this idiot has some intellect in him after all. Good to know._ She was stuck in between hating her host more for catching onto her so quickly and being less unimpressed with him for the entirely same reason.

"Excuse me, what?" Completely halting from his turning, Stannys quickly fired back with an offended look. "Hey, you listen here. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but I can be an intellectual if I try hard enough. So I'll thank you to not be so quick in labeling people as " imbeciles" and "idiots", miss high-and mighty-whoever you are."

Cinder was a little taken back at this. Both at the revelation of Stannys actually hearing her thoughts about him and with him actually talking smack right back at her. Either case was somewhat of a new thing for her.

_You..you heard that? _Cinder cautiously asked. A worrying thought was starting to take form and she did not like it at all. _Earlier, when I called you an imbecile. You actually heard all of that?_

"Yes, yes I did. And I'll say it again. I'd thank you to not be so snobby, Miss." He stressed the last word with narrowing eyes. "Or are you actually even a Miss? I mean, you sound like one, but I've seen enough traps to think otherwise."

Just as he thought back to those particular memories, Cinder was greeted to a front-row seat of seeing what these "traps", as Stannys had put it, actually were. And, to say the least, she was not amused with the prospect of it, let alone the physical imagery of it via his memories.

_No... _She carefully answered back, skeptically. Both as a means to compose herself from the sudden, and questionably lengthy, information surge about pseudo-women and to better plan out her next words. _First of all, I am indeed a female. Secondly-_

"Ah, so that's one question down. Only about a handful left to go." He airily cut her off with a small shrug.

_-I am sorry, that I called you such names._ Cinder continued evenly. Despite her irritating levels surging once again, her years' worth training helped her compose herself. The danger of risking her inert thoughts being heard by Stannys also helped in keeping herself in check. _I assure you, I only came to use such foul diction because of my own self-loathing. You did not deserve such treatment from me, as such, I apologize sincerely for it._

"Uhh, yeah okay. Sure. Apology accepted, just try not to be so quick into bad-mouthing other folks just cuz you're in a bad mood, Miss." Stannys answered back after taking a few seconds of contemplating Cinder's wording. "Although, you could stand to real back on the fancy-schmancy talk. Like, seriously, a simple "I'm sorry, insert reason here, and it won't happen again. I promise" will do just fine, Miss."

Cinder couldn't afford to ponder on the matter, or to be precise she couldn't afford inner speech lest she risks the likely chance of Stannys hearing them, but she was scoffing to herself as to how easy it was to goad him.

"Did you just scoff?" Norman quickly asked.

Wasting no time, she answered back in kind. _Forgive me, Norman. I could not withhold myself,_ Technically not a lie. She couldn't indeed hold back from admonishing him for his naive and easily fooled nature. _, it's just that I have only ever seen so few who are quick to forgive mistakes. It is honestly quite charming._ And foolishly idiotic, she didn't add. Cinder knew well enough what happens to those with "bleeding hearts". They perish.

"Alright, thanks...I guess?" He wasn't sure what to feel about her apology. It was well worded, he knew that much. And combined with her angelic voice, it gave off an articulate feel to it. But there was something else. A feeling. No, more like a sensation. He couldn't put it into words but he just had a feeling that there was something more to her words. Something hidden. And speaking of. "Hey, you didn't answer my question earlier. Who are you, and why do you sound like that woman from the broadcast?"

_A mere coincidence. _The lie came out easy for her. Almost as easy as blinking and breathing. _As for my identity, I am Millisandrea. Or at the least, that was what I was called when I was still of flesh and bone. Regardless of my ascension by the divine R'hllor, I shan't forsake that name._

Stannys' eyes bulged wide as a realization dawned on him. At the same time, Cinder's incorporeal lips morphed into a satisfied grin as she viewed the thoughts of the zealous Fire worshiping religion flying about in her host's head. She had planned this during the hours when her host was still unconscious. And seeing how easily torn Stannys was becoming over her lie, she couldn't help but feel satisfied with herself.

"R'hllor? You mean that so-called "Lord of Light", that one?" The once brown-now black-haired man of twenty and five asked out, voice thick with doubt and caution. "Woman, or whatever in Remnant you are, if you think I'm going to believe that religion magic mumbo-jumbo then you're taking me for an idiot."

And yet, she could feel the doubt in his words. From her memory browsing, she found that Stannys wasn't a religious man. In fact, at the young age of seven years old, he chalked up religion to be nothing more than a flowery and intricate money-laundering scheme that brainwashes the people of the world into solely relying on a "higher power" rather than actually using their own witts and wills to absolve themselves from their problems in life.

And yet even then, there were times in his life that he felt compelled into believing in the likes of religion. Mostly because of the "miracles" and "impossibilities" that he had witnessed being pulled off against all odds. But at the end of the day, he'd always find a way to conclude those things to either be because of drastic luck or some other rational explanation.

_Still__, you are doubtful of your own words. _Cinder answered back, calm as ever and voice warm._ Your mind counsels you that my words are hollow lies filled with just as hollow meanings, but your heart, and yes even your soul, whispers for you to believe. I am a devout follower of the Lord of Light and because of my undying faith in him, he rewarded me with this boon._

"Okay, I'll admit, having a voice in my head is damn creepy to boot." Stannys started, hesitant and careful both in his thoughts and words as he glanced around the alley. "But what's to say you're not using some kind of telepathy-type Semblance to talk to me from afar? Or if not that, a sort of invisibility-type Semblance and you're just close by and whispering in my ears? Hell, maybe I'm still unconscious and this entire scenario is something that my mind conjured up." Stannys reasoned, eyes squinting and brows knitting together skeptically.

"Or maybe, I hit my head so hard when I fell down that I'm starting to hear things that aren't actually there. It could be any of those I've mentioned, and I'd sooner believe those than believing you're some kind of..." He shrugged as he searched for the right word to use. "...magic being sent by some fire god or something. That's just...that's just not possible. And what the hell did you mean exactly by "ascension" and how is this a boon for you?"

_Oh? _Cinder purred. _You wish to deny me and my Lord's given power and label it as nothing more than a hoax, and still, you ask to know more of it? My-my, I would say you are contradicting yourself, Stannys Barythion._

Much to Cinder's amusement, Stannys didn't have anything to reply with. Instead, he gazed solemnly at his feet, a troubled look on his face as he pondered on his next choice of words. And thanks to their shared link, a link that Stannys was completely unaware of, Cinder read what he was thinking and was already formulating countermeasures on the things that he wanted to voice out.

"Okay, I really have A LOT to ask you and I need answers. Now, preferably. So for argument's sake, let's say I believe that you really are a ghost-entity-spirit-whatever that wound up talking in my head because of the Lord Of Light's power or divine grace and what have you." He started off. "What proof can you give me that proves your claims to be true? Like, how the hell can I know you're actually telling the truth and this is done by your Lord Of Light's power?"

Cinder let out an alluringly confident laugh. It was short but delivered perfectly. It was both a means to convey to her host that she did indeed have proof to back up her earlier claims AND to mask the feeling of utter smugness coursing throughout her incorporeal body. But honestly, it was more the latter that caused her quick bout of laughter.

_If you wish for proof, then you shall have it. _With the knowledge of her host falling more and more into her trap of lies, Cinder's voice became thick with confidence. _The Lord of Light freed my soul from my body and saw fit to grant it to you, Stannys Barythion. And with our souls merging, your body has taken up some of the traits that I had when I was still of the living. Do you see that puddle over to your left?_

Looking over to his left, Stannys saw a large puddle of still water and nodded. "Yeah? What of it?"

_Go to it. And gaze upon your reflection. You will find the man gazing back at you to be different from the one you once knew._

A chill ran up Stannys' spine as his worry increased along with his anxiety. Cinder felt this of course, and she couldn't have been gladder. Nevertheless, the man of twenty-five years that now had irises of the color amber walked towards the puddle with short and careful steps. Once he was standing over the aforementioned puddle, he hesitated for a few seconds before shaking his head and cursing to himself at how childish he was being. It almost made Cinder laugh again. But she held back, knowing if she didn't, it would cause some cracks in the "devout and elegantly etiquette rounded Millisandrea" character she was molding.

Stannys then knelt on one knee and leaned his body forward to look at the reflection on the puddle's water.

And needless to say, he was not at all ready to see the man looking back at him in the puddle and it took Cinder a bit of effort to keep herself from laughing at him.

* * *

**A/N: Dun-dun dun-dun duuuuuuuun.**

**Cinder has begun to dig her claws of deceit into our hero's mind, will he figure it out for the lie that it is? Or will he go with the age-old Jaune-route and be oblivious to the secret machinations going about around him which will then, in turn, lead him down a path filled with misunderstandings and conveniently well-plotted scenarios that will benefit him in the grand scheme of things?**

**Find out in the next chapter. **


	3. But rises again, harder and stronger

**A/N: He-yo, folks. Just a little apology note here before we get to the story.**

**Okay so, doubtless, when reading the second chapter many of you were confused by the numerous mentions of the name "Norman" and I am sorry for the confusion. My MC's/OC's final name is "Stannys" but it was originally Norman and when finalizing the file I forgot to properly edit the names. Don't worry now though cuz I've fully changed and re-checked it twice to make sure. **

**All right, that was pretty much it for now. Go and enjoy a good read, friends.**

* * *

_This can't be real. _Stannys echoed in his head.

He was vaguely aware that he was gaping like a fish out of the water as he stared at his reflection in the puddle. Only his reflection wasn't what it used to be. It was a different man looking back at him but not at the same time. His complexion remained the same and so did his facial features. Slightly tanned white flesh, a square-shaped face with a strong jaw that had the makings of a beard growing, a slightly pointed nose, thin lips that also appeared to have the beginnings of a mustache above the upper lip, pointed ears, and deep-set eyes. This was all nothing new to him. He had seen his face many a time already and he even looked into the mirror just the night before.

But what was new though, was the color of his hair and irises. The Barythion bloodline stretched long and far throughout the history of Remnant. The sons, and yes even the daughters mostly, all had dark brown hair that was near the color bronze. As such, like his father, and his grandfather, and his grandfather's father, and his father before him and so on and so forth, he had brown colored hair. Stannys' mother, possessed green irises to which he inherited. But instead of the brown he had long since grown accustomed to, his hair was now of the color black. His thick shaggy hair, his eyebrows, his eyelashes, the hair growing along his jawline, and even the few strands of hair above his upper lip, all of it. Black as ink. And his once green irises were now a shade of yellow, like the color Amber.

_No...no this is just..this is... _He echoed to himself once more.

_Impossible? _Cinder's lustrous voice echoed within his mind followed by a short laugh of amusement from the incorporeal woman. _Stannys, nothing in this world is truly impossible. For all can be done with the Lord of Light's divinely power._

A sort of truth by a technicality. But instead of the "Lord of Light" reaching out and offering his "divinely power", it was more the Maiden Power allowing her to perform impossible feats.

She can bend the very aspects of nature to her will and play around with it to however she sees fit. To conjure air from the palm of her hand, to light that air afire, to freeze it, to solidify it into hard earth, and crumble that same earth into dust and transform it once more into another form of matter in a few seconds without so much as a twitch of her fingers. To flick the bird at gravity and take flight, to move as fast as a falling star, to be stronger than Huntsmen, to have dominion over the storms, the gales, the mountains, the seas, and the oceans.

All of that and more she could do. Or well, use to at least. Before she took a pseudo-suicide dive in favor of a temporary death rather than a perma-death from the hands of Ozpin's faction.

But Stannys didn't have to know any of that, now did he?

_By His will and His alone,__ He has bestowed upon you not only what was once mine, but also the power to reign supreme over all under the heavens._ With grace and certainty befitting someone who's come to be VERY accomplished in the ways of espionage, the incorporeal woman continued to feed her host with lies. _Shut your eyes and bar your ears from every other truth. For the only truth there is and will ever need, is the Lord's._

Stannys heard all of that of course, and even in his state of distraught he remained skeptical of her words, but with his mind too busy coming up with all sorts of realistic and logical explanations to these changes, he couldn't find his voice to reply to Cinder or Millisandrea in his case.

For the changes to his hair, he came to reason that maybe some delinquents or some others had dyed his hairs black while he was unconscious. And as for his now Amber colored irises, he considered the idea that they were just contact lenses covering his seafoam green irises. He even contemplated that maybe he was simply hallucinating these changes due to brain trauma brought by his fall. Even the idea that all of this being nothing more than a dream felt compellingly appealing to him.

These thoughts made Cinder smile. But not the warm and proud kind of smile, oh no. The exact opposite actually. It was the kind of smile only a narcissistic sadist could give to a helpless individual strapped and chained. And that couldn't be a more accurate representation of their circumstance. It goes without saying who the sadist is, Stannys the helpless individual, and Cinder's deceits the chains constricting him more and more.

But fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on where you stand, Stannys could not see her sneering. And to make matters even worse for the already overwrought Barythion, Cinder heard all of his thoughts and had counters at the ready.

_Oh Stannys, dye and contact lenses, really? _She let out an amused chuckle. _And I promise you, this is no hallucination. No more than this being a mere dream._

Taken by complete surprise from the realization of "Millisandrea" knowing his innermost thoughts, he could only gawk as he looked up from the puddle. His eyes darting left to right and back, apprehensively.

_I have already told you, I am a devout servant of the Lord Of Light. _Calm and certain, Cinder began._ And in return for my ever undying loyalty, he has granted me the honor of counseling you, Azhor Ahai, Champion of The Lord of Light come again. He has made our souls into one now. What is of me is you and of you me. There are no secrets between you and I._

Hypocrisy at it's finest, ladies and gentlemen.

_Grip and clutch your hairs as much and as long as you wish, Stannys, you will find no dye in your hands and your hair will be as black as ever. Rub your eyes for hours on end if you will, no contacts will slip from them. _To sell it better, Cinder made an effort to mask her voice with a tinge of guilt. Even though she could hardly care less for being sympathetic and guilty in actuality. _When I was still of flesh, my eyes were Amber and my hair black as ink. It would seem that the Lord has deemed it fit to bless them to you after our merge._

He was still reeling from everything going on, but he found it in himself to push away from the puddle and stand back up with his back straight, shoulders tense, and gloved hands balling up into fists. He also found himself clenching his jaw tight and grinding his teeth together beneath a scowl. An old habit of his that he'd succumb to whenever he was anxious, Cinder remembered.

Even still. Beneath the layers of fear, doubt, and unease hanging thick in his mind, Cinder could feel him ever so reluctantly believing in her words. He was already tip-toeing at the edge of the rabbit hole of her own design. And with just a little more "encouragement" from her, he'd fall right down into it.

"All right, I've just about had it up to here with this nonsense." Stannys had aimed to make himself sound intimidating with that remark. But the slight crack in his voice, brought forth by his ever-growing anxiety, completely ruined the effect. "I think it's about high time you showed yourself and start talking straight, lady."

_This is no-nonsense, Stannys. I have told you truths truer than any of the truest truths you know of. _Without so much as a hitch in her voice, Cinder continued to fan the flames of her deception. _The Lord of Light has spoken to me and has tasked unto me a quest of the uttermost importance. He commanded me to shed my spirit from my fleshly chains and once I did, he sent me to __you. _

"Okay..." Hesitantly, Stannys started off as he slowly undid the straps of his left glove. He couldn't place it but he felt like he needed to prepare himself for a fight. Which meant he had to use his fire once again, much to his worry. "...completely ignoring the whole "my god made me boycott life for a higher purpose" shtick, why did he send you to me? Of all people, why me?" Finally, the last strap of the plated welding glove came undone and he began to reluctantly pull the glove free. "There are three billion people in Remnant, almost four if you count the Free Folk living beyond each of the Kingdom's borders. Your god could have sent you to any of them, to any of the other Kingdoms. So why Vale? And I ask again, why me?"

The glove came off and he looked down at his now uncovered arm to, as per usual, cringe at the scar that snaked from his hands and all the way up to his forearm.

Only, there was no scar to behold. No abnormally bone-thin muscle made purple by his burns. His hand and forearm now matched with the rest of his body's skin tone. As if it had never even been burned in the first place.

Unexpectedly, an array of memories opened up for Cinder to browse. She figured that it must have been due to the revelation with his scars that made them open to her. Within a heartbeat, all of those new memories that had shown themselves to her unbidden became her memories as well. It was as if a file filled with information on portions of her host's life had been directly downloaded and settled into her brain.

And needless to say, what she found was the perfect metaphorical fuel for the metaphorical fire for her machinations

"Wh-wh-wha..." Sounding like he was losing his breath, Stannys took a shaky step back as he stared at his hand in the same way one would stare at Grimm. All thoughts of a battle ensuing fading away as quickly as a dream. "What the hell is this?" Through the disbelief and the hyperventilation that threatened to attack him, he brought his still gloved right hand to his left forearm and squeezed.

His confoundment grew all the more when he felt the sensation of the skin and flesh of his left forearm being squeezed.

When it was burned along with this right, the nerves were also crisped by the flames and rendered him unable to feel anything in his forearms from that day forward. The burnt muscles never really regained their strength either so, as he grew, they remained weak and awful to look at. Because of this, Stannys was unable to properly develop and strengthen his arms and shoulders whilst the rest of his muscles grew sinewy with exercise and training that didn't involve the usage of the arms and hands.

But as he gazed and continued to squeeze his seemingly healed appendage, he couldn't help but feel the firmness it possessed. His gloved hand moved up to his left bicep and gave it a squeeze and he was even more surprised at how strong it felt. And it was the same with his left shoulder too when his gloved fingers held onto it. It was almost as if they had grown to match with the rest of his muscles. Somehow.

_You asked, and I shall answer. _Capitalizing on Stannys' bafflement, Cinder moved to bury him further in her lies. _Yes, there are billions in this world and doubtless, there are many that are faithful and devout to Him. But He chose you, Stannys. Amongst the vast many of servants He has, He chose you. For you have been trialed with fire and have gained His favor. _

"Trialed with- what? Fire? What do you mean by that?" As he spoke, he began to undo the straps of his right glove. He had barely recovered from the shock and he was still doubting this entire ordeal's authenticity, but he was overcome with the need to see his other scarred appendage. He couldn't rationalize why, but he just felt like he needed to see it. "And please, would it really be too much to ask for you to..." He shrugged, still working on the straps of his right glove. "...you know, talk normally?"

_As to that, I speak for The Lord of Light Himself, Stannys. He is the epitome of all, even in grace and etiquette. As such, it is only fitting to speak in His name with only the most elite of vernacular. _

That, and also because she didn't particularly appeal to the idea of speaking like a common commoner. Oh, she would talk like one from time to time in order to mix and mingle with the crowds and aid her in establishing her alibis to throw off suspicion from her whenever she went on infiltration missions. But if she could use and flaunt every fanciful way of wordplay she had learned from training under her Mistress, she would damn well use it. And with gusto.

_And to answer the rest, _She easily continued as Stannys finished unbuckling the last strap of his right glove. _, unsheath your right arm from its glove and gaze upon it. Tell me what you see. _

He did just that. And just like his left appendage, his right hand and forearm were scar-less and they looked and felt to be as sinewy as the rest of his body. All the while he couldn't withhold the plethora of emotions that were running wild within his mind and heart. Cinder saw and felt it all. Shock, relief, wariness, joy, distrust, and astonishment. He was being torn, she knew that much for certainty. One side of him wants to believe this to be real, to not be a cruel trick of some kind, to take that leap and admit that all of this that was happening to him truly was divine grace at work. But another side of him, the one forged and hardened by years of his hardships and rationalities, was urging him that this was anything BUT real. That this was nothing more than a trick orchestrated by some sick individual that took pleasure in tormenting the crippled. And that there truly was nothing more foolish than believing in the divine and the grace of the gods.

But she wasn't worried that much about this conflict in his wills. For being one with him, she knew all of his current thoughts and feelings. Or, well, almost all. And for that, she knew exactly which side of him was dominating the other. All she needed to do now, was doing what she loved to do best.

Dominate some more.

_As you can bear witness with your very own eyes, your scars have gone. He has healed you, Stannys. So many before have tried to heal them. Doctors, scientists, healers, Huntsmen and Huntresses, and even those frauds who fashion themselves to be wielders of the mystic arts. You searched and searched for every way possible in every corner of the world and you went to all of them. You braved the scorching heat of Vacuo, the biting cold of Atlas, the harshness of Mistral's wilderness, and the shame of begging aid here in Vale._

_And they all disappointed. They all failed. And they all told you that it was impossible to replenish your scarred flesh. And for 13 years you have lived believing in that untruth. But He did not, He does not, and WILL not, ever fail. __He has done what so many before have been unable to do. _She smiled a pleased smile, uncaring if anyone could see it or not. _And if you doubt more, I will enlighten you more. More and more until every ounce of doubt within you is purged by His fire. From your mind, your heart, and your soul. I will purify it, with His grace and in His name._

Stunned and left speechless, Stannys slowly sank to his knees. His healed hands pushing at the concrete ground to keep himself from falling forward face first. Thoughtlessly, he enjoyed the sensation of coolness and slight dampness of the concrete. He had no doubts that he'd be enjoying feeling things with his hands again. After all, it really has been well over 13 years since he last felt anything with these hands of his. But this was beside the point.

"You're..." Softly, barely even above a whisper, the kneeling Barythion raised his head as if expecting to see someone standing in front of him. And even when there was no one to be seen, he kept his head up and stared into space. "...just..." _-using mind reading. _He finished in his mind.

He still wanted to believe that "Millisandrea" was nothing more than a Psychic Semblance user who's simply tapping into his memories as a show of her "divinely knowledge" given to her oh so graciously by the benevolent Lord of Light. He clung to that. Desperately. But the more his hands pressed into the concrete, the more he felt the sensation from the concrete, he felt found himself doubting again. This time though, it wasn't the "magical" nature of this ordeal that he was doubting.

The absolute absurdity of it all made him laugh. Only on the inside, however. His jaw was too busy clenching like there was no tomorrow. So much that his thin lips contorted into a scowl.

_Oh, Stannys, _Cinder gave out a short laugh. Whether it was a laugh at him or with him is anyone's guess. _,__ unbelieving still. You seek the truth of this, yet you__ already know the answer. You just choose to not believe it. Yet._

_The Lord of Light sees all through His flames. _Not giving the Barythion any time to ponder, she continued._ Flames that see past the vales of the past, the present, and the future. And it is through these flames of His that he came to see you, Stannys. Rather,_ She made a show of sounding astonished. ,_ he saw the boy who's bravery burned brighter than the Grimm who threatened to harm his little love._

"Rheylla." He muttered, voice heavy with longing and something else. Something darker. It took her a few seconds to realize what it was.

It was rage. Raw and unquenched. There was so much that it actually threatened to overwhelm her as well.

It was perfectly what she needed.

"He saw the boy who failed, you mean." Bitterly he said as he balled his hands into fists. "If your god can see everything in his flames, then why the hell did he just watch and do nothing back then? Why did he let a weak and helpless little boy stand on his own? Why did he-" He choked on something that might have been guilt or regret. But he swallowed it back down with a growl before Cinder could figure what it was. "Why'd he let Rheylla die, huh? If the god you love so much is all so fucking knowing, then why didnt he come down himself and save her? If "all can be done with The Lord of Light's divinely power", then why'd he let a 12-year-old boy fight a battle he had no chance of winning? Tell me that, oh so a fateful servant of The Lord of Light." He finished, pushing himself up to his feet and glaring up towards the cloudless blue sky.

Gone were the doubts and the reservations he once had of her and her proclaimed loyalty to her believed god. There was only acceptance now. And with that acceptance, came anger. Anger at her and her god. And anger at himself. The tears threatened to break free but he shook them back stubbornly.

She almost scoffed at his patheticness. But luckily, for her, the pleasure of having wrung out his emotional and mental vulnerability was enough to keep herself in character.

_Oh,_ She sounded so genuinely heartbroken that it fooled even Stannys himself. Exactly like she intended. , _what happened to her was a grievous err, I know. And it was not your fault. You fought so bravely and you held your ground for as long as you could. Even when your fires burnt at your flesh, you fought on. Even when your bones felt scorched by your flames, you still kept fighting. And when you could do no more, you did what any other mortal being would do. You-_

"Enough!" He barked out. "I didn't ask you about something I already know. I don't need anyone to tell me what I did. I asked you about what your precious god DIDNT do."

_He has a purpose for all living beings in this world, Stannys. _If she was at all pissed with being commanded and interrupted mid-speech at the same time, she hid it well enough for Stannys to suspect nothing. _Like a game of chess, there is the Queen, the King, the knights, and the pawns. In order for victory to be attained in such a game, pieces must be sacrificed. And what better way for a pawn to be used, than being a sacrificial shield for the King._

"A pawn?" He gritted out, voice dripping with contempt. "She was more than a pawn. She was good, she was kind, she was wonderful. What kind of god would willingly leave a girl like that to die?"

_The one we have, Stannys. The ONLY one we have._

"If your god takes a liking to let little girls die in his name, then he's evil. No..." He looked around the alleyway for any passerby. And when there were none, he glared back up at the sky. "...he's worse than evil."

_Sacrifice is never easy. If it were then it would not be fit to be called sacrifice, now would it? Yes, she lost her life but she did not lose it in vain. Her life was forfeited so that you may live._

"Why?" It was a simple word. A single word. But it carried the weight of the guilt he had been harboring for 13 years. "I asked you this and you answered with some preach. Just give it to me straight. If you really are who you say you are, WHAT you say you are, then tell me. What makes me so fucking special that a good soul, a better soul, had to be snuffed out in my place, huh?"

The rage was still there, Cinder could tell. But she could also tell that he was starting to tire. Both mentally and emotionally. Having to relive and re-feel all the bitter memories of his youth took its toll on him.

She couldn't have asked for a better opening.

_You know of the Lord of Light's Firey Text on Azor Ahai, yes? _She already knew that he did, she just wanted to play her part well.

"Your god's champion." Finally looking away from the sky with a tired sigh, he answered as he plopped down on the concrete ground. His voice sounding as tired as he felt. "A warrior blessed by your god with peerless strength and unparalleled prowess. Destined to unite all of Humanity under the firey banner of your god to combat the darkness sent by your god's ever-nemesis the "Other". And..." He wrinkled his forehead in concentration. "...supposedly he has a flaming sword that shines as bright and burns as hot as the sun itself. Light-Bringer, I think it was called."

_Just so, Stannys. __And you know of how he is for told to come again, yes? When the first Azhor Ahai's death came to pass, he was destined to return to our world. In another life, in another body, Azhor Ahai, Champion of The Lord of Light will come again. _She chuckled. _And he has._

"And that's supposed to be me, huh?" A laugh escaped him. It was a bitter and mirthless laugh. "Some champion I am."

_Untrue, Stannys. You have yet to master the powers He has bestowed upon you. And you are still a million leagues away from uniting all of Humanity._

"Oh gee, thanks for the words of encouragement." He chided drily.

Cinder tried her best to ignore that_. But that is why I am here. That is why He sent me. To be your guiding hand, and to be the messenger of His words. For make no mistake, Stannys, you ARE Azhor Ahai come again._

"So you keep saying." He muttered weakly.

It was a futile effort of stubbornness that she had found to be a part of his blood more than anything. But it made no matter, or well, not that much anymore at least. He was hers now. Even with the stubbornness that remained, she could feel his mind accepting her words as the truth. Without knowing it himself, Stannys Barythion had ensnared himself in her web of lies.

And the woman herself couldn't be more pleased with herself with that fact.

_Arise, Stannys. It is unbecoming for The Lord of Light's Champion to be mucking about in an alleyway. Especially in one as revolting as this one._

"Oh yeah? Why don't you fly me out of here then?" Despite his words, he stood up and dusted off the dirt on the back of his dark brown breeches. "Or is that too much to ask of The Lord of Light? Should I kneel back down and pray to him first?" He mocked as he moved to pick up his gloves.

_Stop. _If he wanted a demonstration... _stand back up and __put your hand forward, Stannys. _...he was going to damn well get it, Cinder decided.

He stopped just as he was to lift the glove off the ground. "Put my hand forward?" He said, letting go of the glove and standing straight once more. "Which hand?"

_Your right hand. The one you've been using to wield a sword since you were old enough to walk. And_ _the very same one you always use in your imaginary sword-training__. _

With a sigh of resignation, Stannys did as he was told. "You know, I'm not even going to question that. You probably already know the combination to my diary too, huh?"

She actually DIDN'T know that, but thanks to him mentioning it, all memories concerning that combination came to her unbidden and became her own. Her host's diary wasn't that important to her, but she shelved the potential possibilities of what it might hold for later.

Now was the time for her to hammer in the final nail on the coffin.

"Okay, I've got my hand up. Now what?" He said, flexing the fingers of his raised hand.

_As known and foretold in the Firey Texts, Azhor Ahai wields a sword that holds the power of the sun itself in its blade. A weapon more than fitting to combat The Night and all of its terrors. __You are him, Azhor Ahai, come again, so it is only fitting I bestow upon you__..._

A bright golden fire came to life directly in front of Stannys' outstretched hand. It wasn't his fire, he was certain of that. But before he could think about it some more, a shadow was swirling and starting to take form within the fire. He couldn't tell what it was, at first. But soon enough the shadow solidified into a shape he was more than familiar with.

It was a hilt. A sword hilt, to be exact. Its pommel the an elongated flattened diamond shape that looked sharp to the touch and appeared to be made out of some kind of crimson material. Its grip, which spanned long and wide enough for two hands and was designed in a twisting manner, was made out of the same red material. And it was the same with its V-shaped crossguard.

_...Light-Bringer!_

With that intonation from "Millisandrea", the bright golden fired that was engulfing the newly materialized floating sword hilt began to shrink in on itself just above the V-shaped cross-guard. And when the fire condensed into a size no bigger than that of a fist, it began to swirl upward. As it went, a blade began to materialize and merge with the hilt. Eight heartbeats afterward, the swirling golden fire flickered out of existence but not before shaping the blade's sharp point.

From his extensive knowledge of sword-craft, Stannys was able to puzzle out on the spot the intricacies of the newly made blade. A meter long, an inch and a half wide, made out of some sort of grey-ish metal, and possessed a fuller made out of the same red material as the hilt which was as wide as his thumb's width and spanned from the cross-guard all the way to 3 inches below the tip.

_Come now, Stannys, don't stand just stand there gawking. __Step forward. Step forward and clutch your destiny._

_This is too much crap for me handle in a day- _Cinder heard him think to himself, rather resignedly-which she was pleased with herself for still, as he took a measured step forward, his still outreached hand shying away from the magically conjured-up sword hilt like it was about to pounce on him. _-but fuck it. My hands are healed, my secrets are out, and the gods only know what this Millisandrea creep has been digging up in my mind._

She let the "creep" comment slide, for now, and waited intently for the Barythion to clutch the floating sword's grip. First, his pointing finger brushed the grip briefly before he reared his hand back as if he had been burned. He wasn't, really. The man was just being cautious. Testing the waters, as you would.

_There is no need for fear, my Champion. From henceforward you will never have to fear the flames again_. Gently she urged. _Now, go on, take the sword and let it be known to all the world that Azhor Ahai has come again._

Wordlessly and with a small frown, he moved his opened hand forward towards the sword's grip once again. He hesitated for all three seconds before sucking in his breath and clasping the grip.

The moment his hand closed around the grip, white-bright scrollwork began engraving themselves onto the sword. From the pommel to the grip, to the crossguard, and finally up the edges of the blade and ending at its sharp point. Stranger still, once the scrollwork had joined at the point, Stannys felt the sword vibrate and hum in his hold. So much that his other hand shot forward and held onto the grip as he felt...'something'...surging from the weapon in his hands.

He wanted to let go of it right there and then but, with a flowery encouragement from "Millisandrea", Stannys held onto it still. Only now though he was holding onto its grip like it was the last thing in this world he was ever going to hold. But before his mind could wander off into thinking of imminent death, the blade began to glow. First, it took on a cherry red color, then it turned orange, then into yellow, and then into a bright white that made the scrollwork on its point and edges disappear in its glow.

Once it had settled with the color of white, Stannys unclasped one of his, rather taut, hands from the sword's grip and hovered it just a few millimeters above the white glowing blade.

"Okay..." Slowly he said as he pressed his palm onto the blade. "...so it's a glowing sword? Neat trick, I guess." He was expecting the blade to be hot to the touch or maybe even warm to some degree, but no, he felt relatively no heat at all.

_A trick? Oh no no no, my Champion. This is no trick. __The blade glows, yes, but not because of some simple glamour. It glows because The Lord of Light's fire, the fire above all fires, courses through the steel._

"Fire?" Stannys lifted up his palm and lowered it back down on the glowing blade. "If it's on fire then how come I'm not feeling any heat coming off of it?"

_I have told you already. Fire and heat will never be a hindrance to you ever again. They will be yours to will and your tools to your every whim._

"Right..." Droned Stannys, griping once more the sword's grip with both hands as he studied its glowing blade. "...magic fire and magic heat immunity aside, am I suppose to..." He shrugged. "...what? Carry this around wherever I go from now on? If you can read my mind then I'm pretty damn sure that you know that I know that's a bad idea. As in bad with a capital B, A, and D. If the feds don't get me, the Huntsman association will."

Oh, she knew. She already knew that long before she even set foot on the Kingdom of Vale. Before she had harnessed the Maiden-Power she took measures to avoid being caught illegally using unauthorized weaponry in public. And that's besides. Her old weapon, Midnight, was easy to conceal. A longsword, however, was a bit more...problematic to hide on Stannys' person, she'll admit. But luckily, she had an easier out for that problem now.

_I would say that the Champion of the Lord should not shy away from such mortal demeaning. But I understand your plight, Stannys. Until you have gathered your strength and forces, you must play the part of the simple mortal. This, I understand. As such-_

In an instant, the magically conjured blade dissolved into cinders. Glowing blade and scrollwork and all. Gone in the time it would take one to blink. It suddenly vanishing into thin air made the Barythion jump back a bit.

_-I shall sheath Light-Bringer for a time._

"Where-what...whatd you do with it?" The Barythion implored as he felt around his person, queerly thinking that he'd find it somewhere in his pockets.

_Worry not, my Champion. In times when it is needed, it will come to you. So for now, let us_ _return to your home so that we may discuss your next course of action._

"Next course of action, huh?" He parroted back before picking up his gloves. He didn't have any use for them anymore but he thought it wasteful to just leave such high-quality gloves lying around in an alleyway. "Your Lord's already putting me to work on the first day, huh?" He inquired her, folding the gloves together and stuffing it inside his pocket all the while.

_But of course. You still have 'much' to do, Stannys. And it would better serve both you and me if we get down to work immediately. The Other's forces have already gathered and there is no telling when and where they will strike. We must prepare._

"Yeah-yeah, I figured as much." Sighing, he slicked his shaggy hair back. "I'm the chosen one and I gotta go save the world and shit, I get it."

She had expected him to be greatly into the idea of him being the world's Savior, what with his past and recent deeds and all. To be ecstatic in being a hero like he always wanted. But instead, she felt fear and turmoil inside of him. And most of all, the feeling of unworthiness. Made even more apparent with the inner monologue he was having on why he was the one chosen to be Azhor Ahai's reincarnation and not some other person.

It made for an inadequate display for her but she kept her displeasure of it to herself. She had already caught her quarrel in her trap and she didn't want to give any room for him to wriggle free. So that meant holding her tongue to make sure she didn't lash out at him.

_Shall we go, Stannys? _She insisted without a single trace of irritation present in her tone of voice.

The Barythion looked down at his hands again and stared at them for a long moment. Then, with a heavy sigh, he balled those same hands of his into fists as he looked up from them.

"Yeah, " Letting his balled fist fall to his sides, he turned towards the direction of the alleyway that led to the street. ", let's go.

* * *


	4. In this game

**A/N: There's something to be said with trying to reshape the geography and economy of an entire planet. It's. Friggin. CUMBERSOME. And that's putting it ****lightly.**

**BUT!**

**If anything I'm hard-headed to boot and simply too simple-minded to change that aspect of mine. So, I'll trudge on with the editing. Headaches and mental breakdowns and all.**

**And speaking of editing. I would like to put it out there that I am not, 'I REPEAT', am most definitely 'NOT' putting aside the world that Monty Oum made for all of us RWBY fans to love and cherish. I'm not gonna rename Remnant into Runeterra or Middle-Earth or Earth 616 or anything else. It's still going to be Remnant. With the same continents, the same kingdoms, and the same races (Humans and Faunus). Only thing is, I'm going to be putting in some extra non-canonical "details" into Remnant. So I'm not changing the playing board, I'm merely adding some extra layers into it that weren't there before.**

**And what are these "extra layers", you ask? Well...you guys will see for your selves, in time.**

**Oh, and just one last tiny thing; I've had multiple readers PM-ing me about the nature of my OC's name and proclaiming;**

**_ThATs NOt hOw yoU sPELl Stannis "The Mannis" Baratheon! _**

**Well, duh, dudes I know the man who I'm referencing. I bent the knee to the Maniss since he first appeared in the second book for crud's sake. But I digress. The reason why I named him that way was because I wanted to avoid direct (possible) copyright strikes. And to make sure I keep those strikes as far as away from me as possible, I'll be bending the names of the other characters that any of you might remember from the GOT (books or otherwise) series. **

* * *

_You shouldn't get up so soon, Ozpin. The damage she inflicted on us was that of pure magic. Even with your Aura and my Magic, it will be quite sometime before some of the more mortal wounds fully heal._

A voice he had long since known echoed inside his mind as he rose from the bed. _And that's besides. Glynda will have a fit if she sees you straining yourself. You know well enough yourself how much of a fright you gave that poor girl when you nearly died, so do yourself a favor and avoid regressing back towards death's door. _

_I am well aware of that. _Ozpin Antiquorum, Headmaster of Beacon Academy, answered back in his mind as he stood up straight with slightly shaking legs. _And you least of all don't need to remind me of that battle. These bandages around my body are reminder enough. That and the piercing pain in my chest and guts._

From the neck to his arms and hands and all the way down to his lower torso, the aged silver-haired Headmaster was covered in fresh bandages that looked to have been changed only recently. And beneath his green breeches, his legs were just as bandaged as the rest of his body. He was also sporting a black eye, a broken lip, and numerous bruises all over his face. Thankfully his Aura and his "companion's" aid were healing the damages done, gradually. Still, it was disheartening, all the same, to bear witness the Headmaster of Beacon and the Huntsman renowned far and wide to be the best in the Kingdom of Vale in such a sorry state. And no one felt more disheartened than the man himself.

_You shouldn't down yourself so much, Ozpin. She had gained access to the Maiden-Force of Fall and, as much as I am loath to admit it, she had great mastery over it and its powers. __And then there's also your-_

"Age?" Scoffing, Ozpin shook his head oh so slightly before taking slow and measured steps towards the room's double-pane bow windows. "I know." A step. "Oh, how I know." Another step. Then another and another and another until he finally stood in front of the closed windows.

"Be that as it may, however, we can't afford to sit idly by to lick our wounds. Cinder Fall is still out there, somewhere, " Grimacing he pushed open one window panel, basking in the late afternoon sunlight that immediately lit up his room. ", and is, without doubt, plotting her next attack." He finished, gazing with a slight squint of his eyes at the wonderful view of the patch of forest the Professor's dormitory provided.

_And I agree with you in that regard. But your body is ill-fit do go anywhere further than this room's door. Your knees are wobbling already from the effort of just walking towards a window, Ozpin. I'm sure you don't me to visualize for you what'll happen if you push yourself too far._

"I could always have Glynda help me walk." He suggested, raising a hand to his ribs and immediately wincing at the pain his broken ribs sent up from the contact. "Failing that, I could sit on a chair and have her use her Semblance to carry me around. That way I'd be there to advise them and I won't have to strain my body at all. I see that as an absolute win. For both parties."

_Ozpin, _He heard the entity that had been living inside him for well over 40 years scoff. _, you know her better than that. If she sees you 24/7 in such a sorry state she's going to worry more about you and less on the work she must do. And with the Kingdom going through mass-hysteria and her standing in as Headmistress, for the time being, her attention must be focused 100 percent on tackling matters at hand.__ You can always help her out, yes, but only in the confines of this room. And no more._

"Mass-hysteria?" Lowering his voice to a whisper to avoid anyone from hearing, the silver-haired Headmaster urged back the entity. "When was this news given?"

_You fell fast asleep after Zoe administered you with sedatives. Glynda, ever your most faithful, sat beside your bed throughout the whole night_. _When it was near dawn, Port and Oobleck came inside to bring her reports on Kingdom affairs._

"And?" Turning his back to the sunlight, Ozpin slowly eased himself down on the window stool. "What'd they have to report?"

_As I've said, there's massive unrest all throughout the Kingdom. Cinder's little speech wasn't enough to cause panic but the people are shaken still. And with the mobilization of Police and Military forces prowling every street and district on all four borders, their fears are growing all the more._

For a second he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but quickly enough he shook his head and took that answer for a fact. "If the Military's forces have been dispatched, then am I safe to assume the Crown had a direct hand at that? Or was it the Council that gave the order?"

_The former. _The entity answered, surely. _To which the latter quickly obeyed suit.__ And it should be no surprise. Cinder hijacked every broadcasting frequency in the entire Kingdom and used it to declare her threats. And a threat to the Kindom is a threat to the Crown. And you know how Tywin Lannystir deals with threats to him and his._

"Without a doubt." Ozpin sighed. "Does the Crown know that Fall was the perpetrator?" He asked, already fearing the answer.

_I would say not as of yet. But with the likes of Lord Baelich and Lord Varis on the prowl under King Tywin's decree, it will only be a matter of time until they figure out that Cinder was a quote on quote student attending Beacon. Granted a student under false pretenses, but a student all the same. And knowing who's wearing that crown, he's not going to let this technicality stop him from flying here with a fleet of airships at his back._

"You think he'll attack us? Tell it truly, do you really think the Crown would go so far as that?"

_Directly? No. But as soon as word gets out that we harbored a proven terrorist in our ranks, true or _otherwise, _every square inch of this Kingdom from the southern to the northern Borders will call us out for supposed treachery.__ And when that comes to pass, the Crown will chastise and make a public abolishment of us to appease the masses. They'll have us bend the knee and reinstate our vows and oaths and broadcast it live for all the people to see. If that's enough to calm the brewing storm, then that will be the end of that. But if ever it's not, well..._

That did not bode well with the Headmaster. Yes, he knew how dangerous the Lannystirs were when it came to slights. And while he comforted himself with the idea that the Crown would never go so far as to cast aside one of its most powerful weapons against its enemies, he was anxious about what other consequences the Golden Lion had in store for them. So much that he couldn't fight off the grimace that involuntary made its way to his face.

"Oum damn her," Ozpin cursed, clenching his bandaged fists despite the jolt of pain the action sent. ", I should've known. It's my damn job to know these things and I didn't. And now..." Angry and frustrated, the aged Headmaster grit his teeth so hard both he and the entity inside him heard them grate together from the strain. "...now everyone else will suffer for my folly. And here I am, next to useless and bedridden. Looking for all the world like I'm hiding from the blunder of my own making.

_And punching a crater in those walls like you're planning to do will only serve you nothing, Ozpin. Calm yourself. __Breathe. _The entity encouraged, to which Ozpin followed dutifully quickly enough. _I swear, young man. You're nearing 60 years of age but you still have the temper of a 20-year-old._

"Don't get all cheeky with me, old man." He replied to the entity, breathing out a sigh as he unclenched his now hurting hands. "Back to our earlier topic; Did Bart and Pete have anything else to report aside from what we've already discussed?"

_Oh, plenty more actually. Reports from The Wall and the four Lord Regents. Updates on the well being of our students and the ones from Mistral, Vacuo, and Atlas. Then hours after they had taken their leave, your friend, James Ironwood, came in and spoke on matters with his army and tidings reportedly brought to him by Winter Schnee. And then lastly, just two hours prior to your awakening, Branwen came in and brought with him some news concerning his niece, Ruby Rose, and our chosen Maiden-Champion, Pyrrha Nikos. _The entity listed off. _So, where do you want to start? _

"From the top, I would suppose." Feeling his shoulders sag, Ozpin let out a soft sigh as he made himself more comfortable on the window stool in preparation for the discussion that he knew was bound to be taxing.

_As you wish. _The entity replied, curtly. _Concerning The Wall, the Border-Commanders of the south, east, and north all reported that Grimm hordes by the thousands charged at them. Naturally, they were gunned down quickly enough. However, that was merely on the first hour of Cinder's broadcast. Throughout the night the hordes kept __on charging the wall relentlessly, and with every charge, their numbers increased tenfold. Or so that's what Port had to report._

Forehead furrowed and hand brought up to his chin in a thoughtful pose, Ozpin reflected on the entity's words. "And now? Are the Grimm still attacking?"

_I would surmise so. _The entity answered rather surely. _And expected, really. With the fear in the Kingdom gradually amassing by the millions and only growing stronger with every hour that passes by, naturally, Grimm will be driven to The Wall like moths to a flame._

"Hmm..." He nodded, despite the apprehension building up inside himself. "...and what of inside The Wall? Have there been any Grimm that has spawned within the borders?"

_The girl Goodwitch asked that same question, actually. Both Bartholomew and Port both answered that neither of them received any word from the Lord Regents pertaining to any Grimm spawning within their borders. But here within the Emerald forest, however, the two of them reported that the sensors picked up Beowolves and Borbatusks amassing in hordes__. _

"Only those two types?" He asked, hopeful but wary.

_If only that were the case. _The entity replied, sounding as disgruntled as Ozpin felt with that answer. _They also spotted grown and young Nevermore circling our airspace near the forest's edge but no further. And to make matters worse, they say that Deathstalkers have begun to sprout from the mountains and crawl the forest valley._

"I see." Swallowing down the contempt he felt from having so many Grimm spawn this close to his Academy and being unable to physically do anything about it, the aged warrior grunted out. "Have Bart and Peter taken action in stemming the growing number of Grimm?"

_Port offered the idea of rallying the third and fourth-year students from Beacon and the other Academies for exactly just that, with Oobleck fully board on the plan, but Goodwitch ordered them to discontinue that course of action for the time being. Just until you awakened and offered your own counsel on the matter, she reasoned._

"Ah, of course, she would do that." He agreed with an easy nod as he brought his hand down from his chin. "So, with their full frontal assault put on hold, what other plans did they suggest?"

_It was Goodwitch, actually, who decided for them. While she put off the idea of attacking the Grimm, for now, she didn't put it past her to leave the Academy's borders undefended. _The entity answered him immediately. _They spoke back and forth on defensive tactics for a while before they settled on one that the three of them found acceptable. _

"And?" Ozpin prodded for the entity to expound more.

_They've set up a three-line defensive perimeter that spans from west of the initiation cliffs and runs along towards the east. The first line comprises of fourth-year teams that have a 1000 yards of distance between them_ _so that they'll cover more ground. 1000 yards behind the first line, are the third year teams that form the second line._

"And let me guess, " Ozpin cut in. ", each team of the second line has a 1000 yards of distance from one another? Same as the first line, yes?"

_Correct, Ozpin. __And a 1000 yards behind them, are the second year teams that make up the third and final defense line. __With, of course, the same distancing tactic as the first and second line. _

A wide span tri-layered defensive strategy that encompassed 2/3 of the distance between Beacon and the Emerald forest. With all of the teams likely possessing signal flares and wide range radios to communicate with one another, Ozpin gathered. All in all, it was a good plan as any. Militaristic and practical.

"And what of the first years?" He asked after he had finished picturing out the layout of the perimeter defense in his mind. "What role did Glynda and the others assign them to?"

_Patrolling the Academy grounds. _The entity answered with a light chuckle._ A necessity, I understand, but a role that no doubt some found to be..._The entity paused for a heartbeat. _...boring, shall we say. And no, I did not hear it from either of your three subordinates. Mere speculation on my part, as all. _

Speculation or no, Ozpin found himself agreeing with the entity all the same. From his accumulated experience and knowledge from being Headmaster, and being a first-year student himself so long ago, he knew just how attractive the prospect of battle was for most Huntsman and Huntress students in their first year. A pivotal time in their life where they felt as if they absolutely needed to stretch their wings and prove their worth by pushing themselves to their utmost limits. It was admirable but mistaken.

"And the students themselves? You said Peter and Bartholomew reported on their well beings. What did they have to report?"

_Not much, really. Only that they're on edge. And rightfully so. I don't doubt that your subordinates haven't failed to withhold information on the Grimm battering at The Wall so as to keep them from getting more riled up, but I do believe most of them are sensing the direness in the air. They don't know what it is, and why it's there, but they feel it. That sensation of something unseen approaching, __knawing at the back of their minds and chilling their spines._

"Hmm." Grimly, Ozpin hummed out his agreement with a nod as he took in all of the new information he had been provided with thus far.

_Then, with matters on your friend Ironwood, _Not waiting for Ozpin's leave to continue, the entity picked up. _, he came_ _in with hopes of talking to you directly. But seeing as you were incapacitated, he turned to Glynda and trusted her to give his report to you when you woke._

"And what did James have to say?" Ozpin urged on.

_You're not going to like it. _The entity warned gently.

"Grimm hordes are hammering The Wall, the Kingdom and its people are border lining panic, and there's a large force of Grimm growing in practically my own back yard." Explained Ozpin with a sigh. "Old man, I doubt any news will make this bleak situation we're in any worse than it already is."

_Then you're mistaken to doubt. _The entity told him, sadly. _Roman Torchwick has escaped Iroonwood's custody._

And just like that, the silver-haired Headmaster had to eat back his own words in less than half a minute after saying them. Begrudgingly, he let out a stifled groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his bandaged thumb and index finger.

"Well, damn." Feeling older than he actually was, Ozpin commented on the news given to him as he put his hand down. "You'd think after all I've seen and been through throughout the years I'd learn to not tempt fate so freely."

_It happens even to the best of us, Ozpin. _Comforted the entity. _But back to the matter at hand; With Roman Torchwick free again, Cinder Fall now has a prime opportunity to re-establish connection with the Criminal Empire. _

"And it's beyond imperative to get him back before that happens, I know."

Roman Torchwick, the famously infamous he would take to call himself. It was known even to the general public that he dabbled in the affairs of gangsters and mobsters alike and had a strong control and influence over both. But what wasn't common knowledge, however, was that the fashionable criminal was an influential member of an organized crime syndicate that pre-dated the creation of The Wall itself.

And its been roughly more than thirty hundred years since the first piece of that monumental infrastructure was welded into place.

And this crime syndicate had taken it to themselves to be called the "High-Empirium", but he and those under The Crown who know of their existence call them the Criminal Empire instead. A fitting name for an organization filled with criminals from all walks of Remnant and had more or less the same reach and influence as The Crown. And if ever Cinder Fall manages to get a hold of Roman Torchwick and re-secure him as one of her catspaws, she'll have more pawns and resources fall right into her lap. With each gain more than possibly bringing her closer to another opportunity at toppling down the Kingdom.

He wasn't going to let that happen a second time. Bedridden or no.

"Have they sent out investigations and Hunts in that regard?" Ozpin inquired, curious to know if The Crown had re-routed some Military and Police and Huntsmen forces to re-capture the escaped criminal.

_Ironwood said as much, though I surmise the golden fool sitting on that throne gave the command to prioritize finding the CCT hacker first before Torchwick. He'd want to show the Kingdom the one responsible for their fears and -once again- prove to the people that the golden lion is not one to be trifled with. I would expect nothing less from Tywin Lannystir._ The entity elucidated with a tone that bordered somewhere between irritated and knowing.

Ozpin was halfway into letting out a curse when a thought struck him and had him holding his tongue. That thought led to another, and another, and another, until, after nearing a whole minute of pondering, he came up with an idea that would solve two of their major problems in a single stroke.

_Ah, I was wondering when you'd finally catch up with that. _

"We still have Cinder Fall's corpse, yes?"

_I would assume we do. That Goodwitch girl is smart enough to have seen this far ahead in the game even without having her voicing it. As well as you she knows the King will want the perpetrator, Fall, dead for her stunt with the CCT when he finds out it was her behind it. Following that, the golden lion will rear its head towards us for being affiliated with her. So, likely Goodwitch has Fall's body frozen and preserved somewhere to be shown to the King when he eventually comes strolling into the Academy with an army._

"And when asked who delivered the killing blow, Beacon will be the one to take credit for it." The silver-haired warrior followed up in conjunction with the entity's line of thought. "That way, The Crown will be reassured of our loyalty and whatever sense of treachery the Kingdom thinks we have will be wiped clean from our slate."

_And once that comes to pass, the Kingdom will find some relief in knowing its enemies have been dealt with greatly by their ever so humble King and the mighty Huntsmen of Vale. And with that assurance, the people will eventually start to calm and the miasma of negativity hanging thick in the air will begin to disperse. At that point, it'll be too late to do anything about the Grimm that has spawned from all this negativity, but at the very least we'll be able to avoid attracting any more than we already have to deal with. And as a further boon, w__hen Tywin's thirst for blood is quenched after we throw Fall's corpse at his feet, the search force will focus more on reacquiring Torchwick._

It was an ideal course of action, with plenty of ideal merits waiting for them at the end of it. If everything went perfectly according to their calculations, they'd be rid of multiple troubles and be opened to just as many opportunities in furthering their own agendas. Those agendas being; Fighting the forces of evil, waging a war in the shadows, protecting all those he loves and cherishes, and saving the world.

Your typical Tuesday night in the life of a 59 -nearing 60- year old man who's got a magical entity living inside his soul.

But the man himself knew that this world was far from perfect. And not every plan made, no matter how well intricate and beneficiary, will go exactly as planned without the slightest of hitches.

_Of course, it isn't going to be as easy as that, Ozpin. _Ever knowing his thoughts, the entity spoke up. _There a ton of things that could go awry and spiral that plan into oblivion._ _But if we move our pieces now while the board lies still, we'll be able to secure at least one or two objectives. And I believe you already know which move we must make first._

Ozpin opened his mouth.

_No, you will not be the one to go to Kingsden_ _to strike the bargain with the King._

He closed it back down with a grunt of disapproval.

_I know you're against sitting idly by as the pieces on the board move, but as it stands you're in no condition to make the trip. And that's besides. You know, and you do Ozpin, that if there's anyone in __all of Vale that can cull Tywin's favor to us, it's that girl Goodwitch._

He knew that, of course, but that didn't make it any easier for him to swallow. And this time it wasn't just because of him being sidelined while others do their part in the game. No, this time, it was because he, along with nearly everyone who knew them, knew just how...icy, the two of them could be when they step in each other's vicinity. And was it always a sight to behold. Their green irises, locking into each other with such intensity behind their glares that Ozpin was, in more than a few occasions, certain that he could feel the air weigh heavy on his shoulders when they would go at it.

Glynda, his most loyal and longest-lasting friend, has always been a woman with an intimidating pressure to her presence and an even more so intimidating gaze that left most people phased and some few whimpering. Bartholomew even joked to him once of how her glare was just as frightening as a Grimm's. And really, Ozpin took that more as a fact than a joke. That was just how steely she could be when needed.

But with Tywin, that steeliness of hers amps a hundredfold on the spot. So much that some times he would often wonder just how different she would become whenever she was anywhere near the aged golden lion. Not to say he had any love for the man either, most definitely not, but his dislike is every bit a drop of water compared to the OCEANS of hate that Glynda had for the man sitting on the Gilded throne. And more than once he resolved himself to ask her on that matter, but more than once he was given evasive answers for the trouble.

He took the hints and stopped prodding her for answers. He could have done research by himself but he ultimately decided not to. He was already keeping one too many secrets from her and all of his allies, so he found it fair to let them keep a few of their own.

_Well, that's to be expected really. _Reading his thoughts, the entity voiced out in answer. _But it is what it is, Ozpin, and you know we have to move our pieces this way if we're ever going to regain any leverage on the board._

"I know, " The aged Headmaster agreed, albeit a little reluctantly. ", I hate it, still, but I know."

_Good. Now, aside from the escape of Torchwick, there's another matter Ironwood reported to Glynda._

This time instead of using words that might end up tempting fate once more, Ozpin simply nodded and waited for the entity to continue.

_This news was brought to him by his subordinate, Winter Schnee. Supposedly after Roman was broken out of prison by an accomplice of his, he attempted to plant a virus into the Ironwood's mother ship. Evidence that supported this was found inside the scroll the criminal dropped and abandoned when the young girl, Winter, fought them off and reportedly brought both him and the associate that freed him near death. Though I'm not certain whether or not that last one is true I still believed it with a grain of salt._

"And the virus itself? Have they decoded it?"

_No, sadly. Ironwood said that none of the decoders and programmers that he had brought with him were able to fully bypass the virus' defenses. The only thing that they could do with what little information their efforts bore was to confirm that the program found in the scroll was indeed a virus. And one with a scale they had never thought possible before._

A software program that Atlas, the Kingdom at the very forefront of technological advancement, couldn't fully decode and deemed as something never before heard of. Now that was something worth worrying about.

"So figuring out the "what" of it is going to take a while, isn't it?"

_I would think as much._

"But why did Torchwick have it in the first place? What 'exactly' was he hoping to achieve with planting that virus?"

If the fashionable criminal had left immediately after breaking free from his cell, he and the ally of his that freed him could have walked away without having to fight against Winter Schnee and -if her word could be believed- escape a harrowing experience with death. Yet, they stayed and fought off the Atlas Specialist in the hopes of planting that virus. So abiding by that thought, Ozpin figured that for whatever purpose the virus was for it must have been one of great importance. Something that was almost worth their lives before their retreat.

But what?

_I'm certain we'll figure that out when Atlas finally cracks that virus open. So for now, the best we can do on that matter is to put it aside for the more pressing ones._

"Yes, you're right." Pushing himself off from the window stool, Ozpin began taking short and slow steps back towards his room's bed. "Is that all James had to report? Or is there more?" Much to his chagrin, he was quickly reminded of just how feeble he had become when his breathing began to quicken from the strain of doing something as simple as walking towards a bed.

_Of major importance? No. But he and Goodwitch conversed in...shall we say, personal matters._

"Ah, " So they were talking about THAT, Ozpin concluded. ", I hope Glynda didnt snap at him. I don't imagine with all this stress already mounting on her she had any tolerance for James'...issues with her."

_Issues, _The entity scoffed out the word, amusedly. _, I suppose that does surmise what those two have between them quite nicely. And no, she did not indeed tolerate to hear him out. Shortly then after, Ironwood took his leave and left. Most likely back to his Battle Ship to handle matters on his end._

"Right." To his relief, he finally reached the bed and slowly eased himself down on it. "Now then, what did Qrow have to report? You said it was concerning Miss Ruby and Miss Pyrrha."

_Well-_

"Headmaster? Sir?" A woman's voice sounded off from the door as it slowly drew open, cutting off the entity from answering. "You're awake?"

Lifting his head up from his pillow, Ozpin saw the woman enter his room and closing the door behind her. This woman was light of skin, had eyes with yellow irises and had long dark green hair tied into a fishtail that fell all the way down to her rump. Her clothing consisted that of an orange cotton cloth turtle neck shirt, a short blue silken draped skirt, black colored knee-high lace-up buckled boots, and a baggy pure white trench coat. And adorning her elegant unlined face was a pair of eyeglasses that had small square-shaped lenses.

"Zoe, " The silver-haired Headmaster of Beacon acknowledged the woman as she walked over to the side of his bed. ", when did you get back?" He asked, plopping his head back down on his pillow.

"Oh, about the same time as Barty and Petey." The green-haired woman named Zoe answered chirpily, placing her hands on her shapely waist as she looked down on Ozpin. "And you? When in between me changing your bandages two hours ago to now did you regain consciousness?"

He tried to do the math and calculate how much time had passed during his conversation with the entity.

_17 minutes and 57 seconds._ That same entity answered for him.

"Roughly 20 minutes ago, Zoe."

"I see." The woman Zoe let out as she sat down at the edge of his bed before putting a hand on his forehead. "Right then..." Continued the green-haired woman, closing her eyes as the hand she placed on Ozpin's forehead glowed. "...hm, your Aura's back at full capacity but most of your wounds are still healing so slowly. Your fractured bones and torn muscle strands have healed completely, yet the cuts, wounds, and burns are still raw." She opened her eyes and Ozpin found worry and fear etched in those yellow orbs of hers as she looked down on him with a frown. "Just what did you fight down there, Headmaster?"

She removed her now no longer glowing hand from his forehead as she waited for an answer, still not breaking eye contact with him. He, in turn, reached towards her knee and gave it three pats as he tried his best to smile. An act that was more for her sake than his.

"Worry not, Zoe, these wounds will heal. It will take longer, granted, but they will heal all the same." He reassured her as he gave her knee one last pat with his bandaged hand before placing it on his side. "As for what we were fighting, I thought Glynda would have told you by now."

"Oh Miss G did, " She agreed easily with a quick nod, her frown diminishing just a little but still there. ", but I find it hard to believe that an apparent terrorist playing as a student from Haven could not only injure YOU of all people but also leave you with wounds that are, for lack of a better term, abnormal. And they're just that, " She gestured to his bandaged body with a hand. ", abnormal. I've read enough books on medical science and Aura application to know that the wounds you have should've healed hours ago and yet there they are still, looking for all the world like they're only recent." She paused just long enough to shrug helplessly and shake her head. "I hope you won't see this as incompetence, sir, but I am utterly lost as to the nature of these wounds."

"And I'll tell you again, it is not worth worrying about, young Zoe. I admit even I am left wondering as to the...strangeness...of these wounds, but I'm confident that I'll live through them." The entity had assured him as much. And though it hurt the same way scalding acid on your skin would, he kept that detail to himself for obvious reasons. "Now, moving on from the well being of this old man, how have things progressed in the Kingdom while I've slept? Good, I hope?"

He already knew most of what was happening, thanks to the entity inside of him, but it wouldn't hurt to know more from another's perspective. And besides, this way he'd be able to compare and confirm some of the intel he had gathered from Glynda and James in extension.

"Well..." She cringed. Eyes darting to the side and lips forming a sideways grimace, the dimples on her high cheeks becoming well prominent. "...sir, I...dont know if I should be the one telling you this. A message was sent to us just this hour and I haven't even passed this on to Miss G yet."

Zoe Oobleck was a woman with an attitude and a face that was born for smiles. And some would even say she had a body that made men AND women smile a smile that implied more than happiness. But that was neither here nor there. Right now, this woman who he has known to be ever smiling even in times of great adversity was cringing. And it wasn't even a smiling cringe but rather a full-blown frowning kind of cringe. And he could scarcely imagine just what on Remnant could make her of all people take on such a look on her face.

"Young Zoe, " Mentally bracing himself for whatever she had to say, Ozpin placed his bandaged hand on her knee as an act of comfort as he looked up at her. ", tell me, child, what is this news you harbor?"

For a moment the green-haired woman chewed on her lower lip softly as she thought about her next course of action.

"Okay, " She breathed out. ", but sir, foreword you're not going to like this." She warned with a soft sigh before locking her eyes with his.

And so, Zoe shared with her Headmaster and long time mentor the message that had been sent to every ranking authority within the Kingdom of Vale. And the silver-haired warrior lying down on his bed listened on with a face so stony it would put a boulder to shame, but on the inside, however, he was cursing every god he knew in every language that they were worshiped in. And somewhere in between him chanting profanity and Zoe carrying on with the lengthy message filled with nothing but news that further fanned the flames of the growing fire, the entity spoke in almost a whisper. But Ozpin heard it well enough and much to his growing vexation he understood the meaning beneath those words.

_The game continues._

* * *

**A/N: I'm pretty sure you guys can figure out who the "old man/entity" is.**

**But thats all I'm gonna give out for free y'all. ;-) The rest mentioned in this chapter that made you go "wait, wot?" will be expounded furthermore in the future.**


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